Accidentally In Love
by Suilven
Summary: A little spontaneity can be a good thing. Sure, it could lead to one's horrific demise, but it might also lead to something unexpectedly wonderful - like a second chance at a missed opportunity.
1. Chapter 1

He glanced up, amused, at the whirlwind of the door to his office opening and slamming closed and then the Inquisitor flopping herself down in the chair across from his desk in an exaggerated collapse. Folding her arms over each other on the stack of papers that littered the desk top, she promptly dropped her head down atop them.

He waited, the parchment he'd been reviewing still in one hand.

A moment passed, and then she rolled her head slightly to the side, allowing her to peer up at him through the dark hair that had fallen across her face.

Cullen raised an eyebrow.

She huffed through her hair. "Aren't you going to ask me what's wrong?"

"Are you going to tell me regardless?"

"Probably, but it would be rather more gentlemanly of you to ask."

He leaned back in his chair, stretching the tight muscles in his back and shoulders from being hunched over his desk for the better part of the morning. "Very well. I suppose we must all strive to maintain some resemblance of propriety, despite Sera's best efforts anyway." Cullen neatly placed the latest field report from the Western Approach back onto the top of the 'to be reviewed' pile. "My lady, Inquisitor—"

She held up a finger in protest, still not bothering to raise her head. "I believe we've discussed this once or twice before now, Cullen."

He pretended not to notice her half-hidden smile.

"Ah, I do beg your forgiveness," he said, placing his hand over his heart and inclining his head deferentially. "The Herald of Andraste, Inquisitor Livenya Trevelyan of Ostwick, third in line to Lord—"

"That's a nice cloak you have there." Her head lifted, and she settled her chin on her arms as she gave him a steely glare. "It would be a tremendous shame if something were to… happen to it."

"Indeed."

"By accident, of course," she added, examining her fingernails with a cool and exaggerated sense of interest.

"Naturally." He gave up trying to hold back and grinned. "All right, Liv, I give up. What pressing issue has brought you to this terrible state of distress, leaving you with little choice but to throw yourself haphazardly across my desk?"

Liv beamed. "Much better." She sat up and folded her hands in her lap, glancing down as she idly opened and closed her fingers over the glowing green of her palm, making the faint light flicker. With a sigh, she met his eyes. "The truth is, Cullen, I'm bored."

"You're… bored?" He hadn't been sure what he'd been expecting her to say, but he hadn't expected that.

"Yes, I'm bored." She began to tick items off on her fingers as she spoke. "Corypheus has been defeated, Cassandra is off Divining or whatever it is she's doing… Leliana's been away looking for the Hero of Ferelden for months. Josephine keeps inviting people here from every noble house I could never remember during lessons, and then I have to go to dinner with them and be exceedingly polite and not spill soup on myself." She slid down in the chair so that her head rested against the back support and she stared up at the roof. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad we succeeded and that Thedas isn't a festering cesspool of red lyrium-addled templars, but I miss feeling," she hesitated, searching for the right words, "like what I was doing mattered. I miss being out in the field. Traveling. Being useful for what I was _doing_ instead of being just… a glorified figurehead who sits there and looks pretty."

"Well, I think that's a perfectly understandable way to feel."

Liv tilted her head to look at him. "You do? Because feeling this way makes me feel like a selfish brat." She idly scratched the surface of the desk with her index finger. "So many people lost their lives to get us where we are now—safe, with more opportunities to rebuild the mages, the templars, and the Chantry into organizations that better benefit all of Thedas—and here I am complaining that it's not enough for me."

Cullen stood up and walked around his desk before leaning against the corner closest to her. "I think anyone else in your position would feel the same way. I don't think it makes you selfish."

"What about you?" She closed the hand in her lap, extinguishing the light on her palm. "You're as busy as ever. Endless troops to supply and monitor. I guess it just feels like a never-ending game of chess."

Cullen shrugged. "In some ways. I certainly appreciate having more mundane logistical tasks, as opposed to planning sieges. Too much pressure. I don't think I slept at all in the days before Adamant."

"But, don't you ever want to walk away from it all? Be Cullen and not 'the Commander'? I mean, not forever… "

"Yes and no." He rubbed the back of his neck, a habit so deeply ingrained that he no longer noticed he was doing it. "I like the routine. Without lyrium, I had trouble staying focused, I became overwhelmed by things that were out of my control. Having a predictable schedule helped me immensely, and I suppose I take comfort in it. That must sound dreadfully boring to you."

Liv shook her head. "No, I get it. The difference is that you still have a _purpose_. I'm rubbish at diplomacy and strategy. I should just appoint Schmooples II as Inquisitor and go muck out the stables for Dennet or something."

"Is that what you want to do?"

"Well, not the stables in particular."

"Maybe you need some time away, like a holiday."

"I don't need a holiday." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I want to feel more useful, not less."

"Fine, don't think of it as a holiday. Why don't you grab some people and take off for a few weeks. Visit a keep or two, improve morale, punch some bears."

She sniffed indignantly. "For the record, Cassandra is the bear puncher. I might have ridden one. Once. While very drunk. But the experience was far too bitey to warrant repeating."

He gave the bottom of the chair a tiny shove with his foot. "I'm serious. Take Bull, or Dorian, or Sera, or whoever and get away for a bit. I'm sure Schmooples and Josephine can manage the Inquisition's diplomatic affairs in your absence."

"Would you come?" She lifted an eyebrow quizzically.

"What, me? You would you want me to come with you? Why?"

She studied him seriously. "Because you're my best friend. Because you could use a break, too. Because it would be good for you to see your troops in the field, _"improve morale"_ and all that. Perhaps find a mate for your poor lonely cloak."

He chuckled. "My cloak is happy being alone, thank you very much."

"I mean it, Cullen. Will you consider it at least?"

"I suppose. I'll think about it."

"I should leave you to it then." She rose reluctantly and gave him a light sisterly kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for listening. I don't know how I would manage without you."

She slipped out through the door, pulling it closed behind her, and he stood there for a long while, his fingers touching his cheek where her lips had brushed his skin. The idea of being on the road with her for a few weeks was sorely tempting, but there was always so much to manage here, and it would be difficult for him to delegate everything for that length of time.

Still, maybe there was something he could do to cheer her up…

For the rest of the afternoon, his thoughts were only half on his work until inspiration finally struck.

* * *

 _This story is a gift for the lovely and wonderful cciortan, who makes the most incredible plushies, and who, more importantly, is an amazing friend. I hope you like this story as much as I love the Cullen you made me, and that's going to be tough because I'm still squeeing over him. ;)_ _Go check out her work under cciortan on deviantArt - you won't be sorry!_

 _As always, a big thank you to my beta, Josie Lange, for her super speedy beta work, even with the crazy week she has coming up. Your comments and advice were spot-on as always. :)_


	2. Chapter 2

Liv trudged up the stairs to her chambers, unsure if she felt like collapsing into bed or heading over to the tavern in an attempt to be social. It was long past dinner and her stomach rumbled spitefully. She'd spent the last few hours reviewing Nevarran treaties with Josephine—not that she'd added anything meaningful to the conversation. She knew Josephine had been consulting her more frequently on matters like these—probably hoping she would start getting better at it (not likely)—but it was so dull that she'd been seriously contemplating how many ways she could potentially kill a man with nothing more than a quill.

Her stomach growled again, and she rubbed her belly fitfully. Maybe she could sneak down to the kitchens without being seen. She stood in the middle of the room, trying to decide if food was worth the risk of being cornered by one or more of the nobles that seemed to perpetually linger about the Great Hall, hoping for a chance to natter at her about their petty grievances.

Not worth it, she decided. She'd had more than enough of _that_ for one day. With a grumbling sigh that echoed her stomach's unhappy gurgles, she removed her boots and sat down on the bed, flopping backwards onto the mattress with her arms outstretched.

Something… crinkled?

She sat up, peering behind her. There was a folded scrap of parchment lying on top of her bed covers. Intrigued, she smoothed it out, amused as she read the contents:

 _Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath graciously requests the company of Lady Livenya Trevelyan of Ostwick for a midnight picnic in Skyhold's lower larder._

 _Casual dress._

 _Discussion of any and all Inquisition business shall be strictly prohibited._

 _Arriving famished is recommended._

Liv couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. She definitely had the famished part down.

After whiling away the last few (hungry) hours, Liv made her way down to the lower larder. The only dicey bit had been crossing through the Great Hall, but the hour was finally late enough that she'd been able to slip through into the side passages unnoticed. She'd thrown her favourite dark blue cloak over her shoulders, the one that was so tattered and worn that no one would have expected to find the Inquisitor beneath its thread-bare remnants.

The air grew colder, the hewn walls rougher, as the sloped tunnels led her downward, deeper into Skyhold's depths. She couldn't quite see her breath—not yet, anyway—but the chill, along with the grumbly ache in her belly, was enough to make her hasten her steps.

When she reached the door to the larder, she very nearly pushed it open before stopping herself. The faint strip of light from beneath the door's edge indicated Cullen's presence, which made her think of his "formal invitation" with a smile. No, simply pushing open the door wouldn't do at all.

She knocked three times in succession, allowing a slight pause between each thud of her knuckles against the wood.

Cullen's voice sounded from within. "I'm terribly sorry, but this event is by invitation only. I believe the wine cellar and the upper larder are still unoccupied though, if you wish to try your luck there."

"I suppose it's fortunate that I happen to have an invitation then."

"Well, a thousand pardons then, my dear lady. One moment please." There was a shuffling noise and then the door opened a crack, just wide enough for Cullen to peer through. "I'll have to verify your identity first, of course. Can't be too careful. Name?"

Liv performed a flourishing curtsy, the one Josephine had taught her before the ball at Halamshiral—and forced her to practice over and over again until she'd threatened to show up in nothing but her underthings and Cole's hat. "I am Lady Livenya Trevelyan of Ostwick, good ser, and I was invited here by the Commander of the Inquisition himself."

"Let me check…" His brows crinkled in mock puzzlement. "Oh, dear. I'm sorry to say you're not on the list."

"I'm not on the list?"

"No, I'm afraid this is a rather exclusive affair. You see, there's only one name on my list." The side of his mouth quirked upward. "Myself excluded, of course. "

"Oh? And who would that be?"

"Hmm? I don't know if I'm at liberty to share that information with you. The Inquisitor is a harsh mistress, as you know, and her wrath is fierce and terrible." He paused, tapping one finger against his lips. "Plus, I've heard she eats babies. And she can suck your spirit out through your nose while you sleep. "

"She sounds frightening."

Cullen nodded sagely. "She is."

"Well, I do happen to have my invitation. Perhaps that would satisfy you, ser?" She produced the piece of parchment from her pocket and passed it to him through the gap.

He looked it over, clicking his tongue lightly against his teeth. "This seems to be in order. I suppose my list must be in error. Apologies again, Lady Trevelyan. Please, come in."

Cullen opened the door wide and bowed to usher her in. He was dressed comfortably as well, in a loose white linen shirt and trousers, although his customary cloak was still draped over his shoulders to ward off the damp chill in the air.

Liv was, as it happened all too rarely, speechless.

A red checkered blanket covered most of open space on the floor, and the sconces that ran around lower larder's walls were lit with torches, giving the enclosed room a warm and merry glow. On the blanket, a variety of dishes and baskets were arranged in the center, and the array of smells that greeted her made her stomach rumble loudly.

"So, what do you think, my lady?" Cullen gave her a slightly nervous shrug of his shoulders. "Is this suitable?"

"It's bloody fantastic!" She enveloped him in a quick hug before circling the blanket and its contents eagerly. "This is amazing." She stopped to give him a genuine smile, her eyes crinkling up around the edges. "Thank you so much for this."

"It was the least I could do to cheer you up. Now," he gestured at the floor, "If you would like to be seated, I do believe a feast awaits us."

* * *

 _Thanks to Josie Lange for her awesome beta work, as always!_


	3. Chapter 3

A feast was an understatement.

Cullen had brought her favourite meat pies down from the kitchens, and the filling had still been steaming when she'd broken open the buttery, flaky crust. He'd also scrounged up a decent variety of cheeses, pickled vegetables, and a handful of slightly wrinkled, but perfectly sweet, apples. There was a carafe of mulled wine, and another of a hot bitter brew that the Antivans favoured, and that both of them had rapidly taken a liking to as well. And, for his final coup, he'd somehow managed to acquire her ultimate weakness—tiny balls of pastry filled with a delectably rich cream, dipped in a glaze of dark chocolate.

With gluttonous delight, they'd devoured nearly everything, and Liv stretched and patted her stomach in satisfaction. "Well, that should hold me for a few hours at least."

Cullen laughed. "We should be so lucky. You see, there's a reason I chose the lower larder for our late night rendezvous. The food is already here, so I don't have to go back up to the kitchens to get more." He tapped the side of his head with his forefinger. "And that, my dear lady, is what we leaders like to call 'strategy'."

Liv stuck out her tongue at him. "You don't have to rub it in. I'm more of a 'seat of my pants' kind of girl, and it's done me just fine so far. Where would we be now if I'd sat around planning things first instead of rushing into Divine Justinia's room at the Conclave?"

"Bowing down to Corypheus and turning into red lyrium statues? Going insane?"

"Exactly." She reached over and popped another pastry ball into her mouth. "Which is why," she paused to chew, licking the chocolate residue from her fingers, "sometimes it can be a good idea to rush in without thinking." She continued on, despite him opening his mouth to interject. "Not that we should do that all the time. Adamant would have been a disaster without you. And the Arbor Wilds. Plus all the day-to-day maintenance of troop rotations and supply lines… I'm not a details person. I get it. It's okay. One of the many reasons for me to be thankful that Cassandra recruited you."

"If you're trying to make me blush, it won't work. I'm fully aware of how lucky you are to have me."

Liv snorted. "You've been hanging around with Dorian for too long. You're starting to sound like him."

Cullen sipped his mulled wine with a grin. "He is rather a bad influence, isn't he?"

"Just so you know, if you ever grow a mustache, I'll sneak into your room at night and shave it off myself. Consider yourself warned."

"I shall endeavour to keep that in mind. It's more than just Dorian though. Being here, through everything that's happened… I feel like I'm finally living again. When Cassandra found me after what happened in Kirkwall, I was so filled with anger. I despised myself, what I'd become. I was far removed from the ideals I had held when I joined the templars—it was the life I'd chosen for myself, the only one I'd really known—and I didn't know how I would ever be able to pick up all those pieces and be whole."

He rubbed a hand over the scruff on his jaw. "Then, the Inquisition gave me a purpose I thought I had lost. Giving up lyrium, as hard as it's been, has made me feel like I'm my own man again. I'm living _my_ life, making a difference." He was staring down at the blanket and, as he looked over at her, his body relaxed out of the tense posture he'd adopted. "Sorry, didn't mean to blather on. It feels so good to be… I don't know… unburdened."

Liv grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly before letting go. "I'm so glad. As much as I like 'serious Cullen', I like seeing you this way more. You deserve it."

"Yes, well, let's not get too sappy." He stretched out his legs and leaned back, keeping his upper body propped up on his forearms. "If it gets out that my overbearing demeanor has lightened, I may never hear the end of it from Josephine."

Liv patted his shoulder sympathetically, trying to ignore the unwanted tightness in her throat. "Is she still trying to arrange a marriage for you?"

He toyed with his glass, swirling its contents before drinking. "Nothing I say or do seems to dissuade her."

"I know the feeling. If I get invited to one more dinner with Count Lucien Darnaud, I'm giving Sera full authority to start an apiary in Josie's bed chamber. I don't care how much the," she mimicked Josephine's lilting accent, " _'alliance would be valuable for the Inquisition'_." She picked at a thread on the edge of the blanket. "The man's an idiot. And he has no sense of personal space."

Cullen's eyes darkened. "Has he done anything inappropriate?"

"Not directly. He makes me… uncomfortable." She shook her head. "Anyway, I believe my invitation stated that discussion of Inquisition business was strictly prohibited. So," she raised her now cool glass of mulled wine, "I would like to propose a toast instead: to the dashing Commander Cullen, and his wondrous feast of plenty—especially those little Orlesian pastry things."

His lips closed into a tight, determined smile that verged on feral. "I'll make sure Josephine invites me to her next dinner engagement with Count Darnaud." He held her gaze until she gave a quick nod—a flicker of acknowledgement in the dip of her chin—and he, too, raised his tumbler of wine and tapped it to hers. "To our feast, and to stolen moments of freedom."

They both drank deeply, and Liv set her cup down with a contented sigh, wrapping her cloak around her more closely. "I wish we could stay here all night. Although, it is a little chilly."

"Do you want mine? It's bound to be warmer than those frayed scraps you've got."

"My frayed scraps are just fine, thank you kindly." She sniffed in mock irritation. "I do, however, want more of those pastry balls, which we sadly appear to be out of." Liv swiped her finger across the empty plate, gathering the last remnants of chocolate and licked it off the tip of her finger.

"Are you seriously still hungry?"

She glanced away sheepishly. "A bit, but it's this damn anchor. "

"Uh huh."

"It is! Shut up!" She stood up and stretched the kinks from her back. "Come on, there must be something good down here. Help me find a snack and then we should probably head off to bed. It's got to be nearly two by now."

"And what does my lady desire? Something sweet? Something salty?" Cullen rose with surprising grace, quicker than she was used to without his armour.

"Sweet."

"All right, let's see what we can find."

The shelves were well-stocked with provisions, and several rows extended from where the blanket lay into the darker recesses at the larder's rear wall. Liv took one row, Cullen another.

"Candied figs?" he called out from his row.

"No, too sticky." She trailed a finger along the shelf as she walked, surveying the contents of her aisle. "Oooo, minced ram with raisins. I'm sure that's a delicacy somewhere, but I think I'll pass."

They made their way slowly down towards the rear of the larder, chuckling over oddities, and Liv marvelled at how well-stocked they were, with only two years having passed since the Inquisition had come to occupy Skyhold. The shadows grew longer, farther from the torches, and it was difficult to make out the labels by the time she'd reached the last section of shelving before the back of the room. There was a narrow gap between the wall and where the rows of shelves ended, scarcely wide enough for her to squeeze through into Cullen's aisle.

"You know, that would be easier if you hadn't eaten so much."

"Quiet, you. I saw how many of those meat pies you put away." She leaned back against the stone, folding her arms across her chest, when she heard a soft click.

"Did you—?" Cullen started to say.

A section of wall swung inward behind her and she tumbled backward into the darkness.

"Andraste's tits!" Liv hit the ground, landing solidly on her ass, before Cullen stepped through the opening and extended her a hand to help her up.

He held her forearms gently, studying her face. "Are you injured?"

"No," she grumped, rubbing her bottom with a wince. "I'll likely have an embarrassing bruise come morning, but it could be worse." Though her heart was still pounding like a runaway horse, her lazy sense of fatigue had galloped away with it. "What is this? I don't remember seeing this on the map when Gatsi mapped out the lower chambers for us…"

Cullen released her arms and peered around her into the gloom. "It looks like a tunnel."

"It obviously hasn't been used in a long time," Liv noted, scuffing the dust on the stone floor with her boot. "Look," she pointed at something further down the tunnel wall, just at the range of the limited illumination, "I think that's a sconce for veil fire."

Cullen nodded in agreement. "We should get Dorian or Vivienne to come check this out in the morning. There could be—"

"In the morning? But that's ages from now." She seized his hand impulsively. "Let's go take a quick peek. Aren't you dying to know where this might lead?"

"I don't know if 'dying' is the word I would use when trying to encourage someone to do something reckless."

"Oh, come on. It's not reckless. We're in Skyhold. The worst that could be down there is maybe some spiders or something."

"It's the _'or something'_ that worries me."

"But, you and I can handle it." Her eyes took on an excited glint. "I've got my daggers—"

"We've both got no armour—"

"I know, but it's… an adventure. It probably leads to some useless old store room, but we won't know until we try." She straightened up. "We can head back at the first hint of any danger. I can scout ahead, and come right back if there's anything bad. Anything at all. Come on," she could tell he was wavering, "being impulsive isn't always bad, remember? We don't even have to explore the whole thing… we could just go a little ways in tonight, and then come back with Dorian later. Right?"

Cullen sighed. "One quick peek. That's it."

Liv fought back the urge to squeal and clap her hands together. "Agreed."

"Let me go grab a torch at least. Who knows what state the walls and floor might be in once we're inside."

"Good thinking."

Cullen returned after a moment, torch in hand. "You ready?"

"More than ready." Liv flounced over with a carefree swagger in her step and handed him one of her daggers. "Just in case."

"Ladies first then."

Liv took a few steps into the darkness and paused to listen. There was a faint sound of dripping water somewhere in the distance, but otherwise, everything was still; no tell-tale skittering of claws or other movement that might indicate anything untoward. It was significantly colder than the larder, although that was hardly surprising. "Sounds okay to me so far," she whispered. "Floor seems fine, too. All solid stone." She moved in a few more feet and waited for Cullen to follow her. "Isn't this exciting?"

"I've never been much for exciting," he whispered back. "Do you want me to chock the door open before we proceed?"

"Nah." She had to restrain her eagerness to rush ahead, making herself take slow, careful steps as Cullen mirrored her movements. "I promised you we wouldn't go too far in, so I'd rather be able to see the light from the lower larder to lead us back if need be. Besides, what's the worst that could—"

There was an audible click, and then the door swung shut with a cloud of dust that rose into the air.

Liv coughed.

She rubbed her nose and coughed again as the dust settled.

"Well, shit."

* * *

 _Thank you to my awesome beta, Josie Lange, and thank you so much to Shom and my other guest reviewer. I appreciate the support! :D_


	4. Chapter 4

After an extensive search of the nearby walls and floor, they were forced to conclude that the trigger for opening the door from this side of the passage was, unfortunately, not mechanical in nature.

"Bloody elf magic." Liv shook her fist at the wrought-iron veil fire sconce. "I'm sure Solas is laughing at us somewhere, wherever he is."

"It appears our only choice is to proceed, unless you have any other ideas?" Cullen pulled his cloak more tightly around his shoulders with a shiver.

"Nope, nowhere to go but forward. Ah well, what's an adventure without a risk of failure, right?"

Cullen grimaced. "See, this is why careful planning and strategy are the cornerstones of success."

"Perhaps," she grudgingly admitted, "but adaptability, being able to change your actions as the situation dictates, _that's_ what gives you the advantage over an enemy who thinks too much." She poked him in the forehead with her finger. "They become predictable."

"I concede your point as well. But, seeing as how no one even knows we're down here, I think we should press on and try and find a way out, before we freeze. Or starve. Or fall down a crevice. Or—"

"Cullen?"

"Yes?"

"Not helping."

As they had started, Liv crept silently ahead with Cullen following behind her with the torch; close enough to give her the advantage of the outside rim of flickering light, but leaving her with sufficient shadows to hide in if needed.

"The passage is starting to slope downward," she said after they'd been walking awhile. So far, the tunnel had led them in one direction only, with no diverging paths. The passage had been carved into the mountainous base of Skyhold itself; the walls and floor both surprisingly smooth. Liv figured she could have walked through here barefoot without worrying about stubbing her toes, as there were no cracks, no places that hadn't been carefully hewn down by elvhen carvers long ago.

The sound of trickling water had gotten louder—perhaps there was a stream outside that ran parallel to the passage—but they'd encountered nothing sinister that might want them for a late night snack. In the absence of any debris, bones, or other signs that would indicate a presence other than their own, they'd both begun to relax, walking closer together. Sconces for torches appeared every so often, ancient torches still in them—unlit and waiting—although they hadn't bothered to stop and light them.

"Do you think we're just going deeper into the rock then?" She could hear the frown in Cullen's voice. "If this doesn't lead out…"

"If it doesn't lead out, then we'll head back the way we came and wait by the hidden door. At least we left the picnic blanket and the dishes in the larder. Surely, if someone sees that, they might make the connection. We can try pounding on the door if we hear anyone. It could be wors—"

"Please, don't say that again," Cullen said dryly.

"What? Oh, right. Duly noted."

They walked for a few more minutes in the light of the flickering torch, Liv rubbing her arms briskly beneath her cloak to try and generate a bit of warmth.

"I think the tunnel's beginning to open up," Cullen remarked. "It looks wider up there."

Liv nodded in agreement, her fingers curling around the hilt of her dagger. "The water sound is louder, too. There could be something nasty up there that we can't hear over it. Let me creep ahead a little. You stay here."

"I might as well come with you. I'm not as stealthy as you are, but I'm not in armour at least. No sense being reckless."

"All right, but try and not be so stompy with your feet."

"I am not stompy," he muttered under his breath, although his foot falls were quieter as they edged forward again.

As they reached the point where the passage became noticeably broader, the path turned suddenly to their left and both of them froze as they came around the corner. Whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn't this.

It was a giant cavern, naturally formed, from the looks of it. A phosphorescent blue moss covered the lower part of the walls, bathing the room in a pale azure glow. Most of the floor was taken up by a deep pool, with stone pathways threading around it. Steam was rising from the surface of the water, dissipating like warm breath in the cool air, and clumps of pink-hued saponaria blossoms intermixed with spindleweed were growing near the water's edge in several places.

Cullen raised the torch higher, illuminating the cavern's walls and the black opening of another tunnel at the far end. Liv couldn't help gaping as the light revealed fading murals that had been painted there long ago. There were images of elves reclining in the pool, of elven women lathering soap into their hair, of elves wrapped in leaves and coloured squares of cloth.

"It's a bath house," Cullen said with amazement.

"This is incredible. Can you believe this has been here, undiscovered, for all this time?" She stepped further into the room and crouched down to dip her fingers into the pool. "It's warm. There must be a hot spring underneath here." Close up, she could see how clear the water was, allowing her to peer down to the bottom. "It's not that deep. And it looks like there are benches carved into the side part way down."

Liv stepped carefully around the pool's edge, Cullen behind her, studying the murals with a hushed sense of awe. "I wonder how many years it's been since someone last walked these paths?"

"Hundreds, at least, I'd wager."

When they reached the tunnel opening at the far side, Cullen gestured at it with the hand that wasn't holding the torch. "Shall we?"

Liv looked back at the water longingly as the dank chill of the passage ahead settled on her skin. "Or, you know, we could just stay here for a few minutes… warm up… test out the hot spring…"

"Are you serious?" He quirked an eyebrow at her. "We are, at the moment, stranded down here."

"Exactly." She nodded with satisfaction. "We're stuck. So, we might as well enjoy ourselves. If I'm going to die down here, I'd rather be clean and warm, wouldn't you?"

Cullen opened his mouth as if to say something and then closed it again, his cheeks taking on a pink hue. "But, won't it be, um, awkward, if we…"

"I won't look if you don't. Come on," she grabbed his hand and dragged him back towards the water, "spontaneous is _good_. And I'm going in either way. So, you can sit here and be sad and smelly and dry, or you can come in with me." She gave him a pleading look while unbuttoning the clasp that held her cloak closed, letting it drop to the ground. "Come on, Cullen. Please?"

His cheeks were still pink as he muttered, "All right. Just for a few minutes." He turned his back to give her some privacy, placing the lit torch in one of the empty sconces on the wall.

Liv stripped off her clothes quickly, shivering as her skin broke out in gooseflesh. She couldn't help the elated skitter of her heart at the thought of being in the water naked with Cullen, even if nothing was going to happen. They'd only spoken about it once, a long time ago, shortly after the Inquisition had first come to Skyhold. She'd finally worked up the courage to tell him of her growing attraction towards him, but it had—to her deep embarrassment—all been for naught. He had taken his arm in hers as they'd walked the battlements and confessed more than she'd ever expected: his struggles to wean himself off lyrium; the horrors he'd experienced at Kinloch Hold; the darkness that had consumed him in Kirkwall. He wasn't ready for anything more than friendship, he'd told her, and although it had stung bitterly at the time, it strangely seemed to have drawn them closer.

With him, she didn't have to worry about being anything other than herself and, with the possibility of romance off the table, there was no awkwardness or uncertainty as to where they both stood. There was no need to impress him, no need to be self-conscious. She could put aside the heavy burdens of being the Inquisitor and all it entailed, and find a sense of peace in his company. She was sure it was the same for him, as he was never as serious with her as he was with the others.

She carefully stepped down into the water, first onto the carved benches below the surface, and then down onto the slightly slippery bottom of the pool. "Oh, Maker." She groaned as the heat of the water seeped into her skin. "This was the best idea ever." The water was warm, bordering on hot, but the contrast between the cool air caressing her shoulders and the temperature in the pool was blissfully perfect. Sitting down on the bench, she checked that the water level was high enough to conceal her breasts, although the water was clear enough to make her nipples somewhat visible from the surface. She shrugged. It was just Cullen; it didn't matter.

"Okay, I'm closing my eyes now so you can get in." Liv leaned her head back against the lip of stone surrounding the pool and sighed happily as she listened to the rustling of Cullen removing his clothes and the sloshing sound of him joining her in the water.

"Oh… this is… this is amazing." Cullen gave a groan of his own as she felt him settle on the bench beside her. "You can open your eyes."

He had adopted a similar position to her own, resting his head against the lip of the pool's edge, and he gave her a shy grin as she looked at him. She didn't allow her gaze to slip past the broad musculature of his shoulders, giving him a grin in return.

They soaked in amicable silence for a while, relishing the water's heat, before Cullen spoke. "My lady, I do believe I owe you an apology."

She turned her face towards his lazily. She was going to fall asleep if she wasn't careful. "What for?"

"For ever doubting that spontaneity can—sometimes anyway—be a good thing. We may still be stuck down here, but at least we'll die—what was it?—happy and warm, right?"

Liv gave him a playful slug on the arm. "You forgot clean. I intend to die smelling nice." She slipped from the bench, tilting her head back into the pool before straightening up and walking over to the edge where a clump of spindleweed was growing. She plucked some of leaves, crushing them in her palms before working them into a sweetly aromatic lather. It was nowhere near as fragrant as the fancy Orlesian soaps that Josephine insisted be available to her in her quarters but, truthfully, she preferred straight spindleweed. It was what they all used on the road, and it was familiar, comfortable.

She turned back toward Cullen, her arms over her head as she started to work the lather into her long, dark hair. "You want some, too?"

He was still as stone, staring at her; his eyes intense and unreadable in the pale light that rippled on the water's surface. "Uh, yes… sure."

She tilted her head, studying him with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck and it took all her willpower to not gape openly at the broad leanness of his chest, his skin marked with the whispered silver of faded scars. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Turning away again, Liv gathered a fresh handful of spindleweed leaves, and then made her way back through the water towards him. He stood up as she approached, and stretched out his hand for them when she offered them.

"Thanks." Cullen crushed the leaves as she had done, and began to rub the lather into his short hair.

Liv scrubbed the top of her head, and then used her fingers to work the foam through the longer tresses that hung down her back. "Bah. I need more leaves." She grumbled as she swiped the last bits of lather from her hands. "I swear, one day I'm going to cut it all off. It's not worth the trouble."

"You wouldn't."

"I would. It gets in the way when I'm fighting unless I've got it tied up. I'm forever picking brambles out of it…"

"Turn around."

"Vivienne is always at me to do something proper with—wait, what?"

"I said, turn around." He jabbed her shoulder with one finger. "You won't cut it off, and you know it. You like your hair long. I've seen you preening about when you think no one's looking."

"I do not preen!"

"Yes, you do. Now, turn around." He poked her shoulder again.

"Why?" She eyed him suspiciously.

He held up his hands. "Because, unlike you, I have ridiculously short hair, and this is way more than I need."

"Oh. All right then."

She turned away from him, and nearly flinched—even though she'd known what was coming—when he began to massage the spindleweed foam into her hair. "See, is this so bad?"

His voice was husky and low near her ear, and she felt slightly ashamed of how much she still desired him. His fingers were rubbing slow circles on her scalp as he worked his way from the crown of her head down to the base of her neck. His thumbs were resting against the juncture of where her neck and shoulders met, and she let her head fall forward a little to give him better access. "That… feels fantastic. Thank you."

She tried not to think about the fact that he was standing mere inches away from her, completely naked, and that she was, too, and that they were _naked_ , in the water, together, and that his hands were on her… Okay, so it didn't mean anything in _that_ way but, Maker, the strength and warmth in his fingers was making her melt.

He gathered the length of her hair in his hands, reverently working the lather down into the ends. She couldn't help a slight tremble each time he brushed the bare skin of her back, but she hoped he didn't notice. Part of her wished she could see his face right now, but the greater part of her was glad that he couldn't see hers.

"I think you're ready to rinse, my lady," Cullen said softly. He ran his thumb gently down the back of her neck before moving his hands away and he'd have to have been blind to not notice the brief tremor that quaked through her.

She gathered her courage and turned to face him, feeling as though the air had turned thick and heavy and she was struggling to breathe. He was watching her, with that same intensity in his eyes as he'd had earlier.

Without shifting her gaze, Liv cupped water in her hands and began rinsing the foam from the bottom of her hair. Cullen didn't move until she crouched down, the water slipping up and over her shoulders, and he mirrored her actions. She closed her eyes, letting her head fall back into the water as she scrubbed the last of the lather from her scalp. What was he doing? What were they doing? Did he want more than… No, he'd said he didn't. It was hard to swallow past the lump in her throat. She was needlessly complicating things. She should say something; clear the air, before it got awkward.

"Cullen—"

"Liv—"

They both spoke and stood up simultaneously, their heads colliding with a loud thwack.

* * *

 _Thanks to Josie Lange as always - you rock, lady!_


	5. Chapter 5

"Ow! Maker's br—"

"Shit! Andraste's flaming butthole!" Liv yelped, rubbing the bridge of her nose, and trying not to wince. "Are you all right?"

Cullen was massaging his forehead gingerly. "I'll live. You?"

Liv looked at him and began to laugh. "This has been the strangest night of my life, and I've had a lot of strange nights." The laughter bubbled up and she couldn't stop. "For a minute there, I thought that…"

Cullen had started to laugh, too. "Stop, stop. Here, let me…"

He reached a hand out toward her face, but she batted him away. "No, let me finish," she gasped out between giggles. "I thought that—"

"You've got spindleweed leaves in your hair. Let me just—"

"No, bugger off." She slapped the surface of the water with her angled palm, splashing water at him and laughing as he sputtered.

"You think you're tough, do you?" His eyes glinted with mischief. "This means war, lady."

"Bring it on, Commander—" And then she couldn't speak, as he'd used a full swing of his arm to spray water into her face.

Splashing and shrieking, she paid him back in kind and he retaliated, their laughter echoing through the cavern.

"Okay, okay, stop." Liv put a hand on his arm, breathing hard. "My sides hurt from laughing. And I have far too much water up my nose. Truce?"

"Truce." Cullen wiped the water from his eyes, his last few chuckles coming out as heaving pants. "Wow. I can't remember the last time I did that."

"The last time you did what?" Liv flipped her wet hair over her shoulder and gave him a cheeky wink. "Had fun?"

He took a step over so that they were standing facing each other. "You know, some day that mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble."

How could she resist an opening like that? "Oh, I hope so."

His gaze flicked down to her lips and back up again, and a knot of nervous anticipation settled in her stomach. He was still breathing hard, his own lips slightly parted, and she knew she was staring, too.

"Cullen," she started, but he interrupted her.

"Do you remember that day on the battlements?"

How could he possibly think she had forgotten? Her heart was threatening to break its way out of her ribcage. "Of course."

"I… I've been thinking about it. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it actually. I wasn't ready then, and I wasn't sure I ever would be. I didn't want you to know that I had ever pictured you… as more than a friend." He glanced away and then back again. "I didn't think it was fair to plant that hope in your mind when I didn't think anything could ever come of it. I hurt you—I know I did—and I'm sorry."

"And now?" she whispered.

His eyes were warm and soft and his hand tentatively came up to cup her cheek. "I'm ready. If you still want to see where things might lead. I wasn't sure if you still wanted… if you still thought there might be something—"

"Are _you_ sure?" She wanted to believe this was happening, wanted it with all her heart.

She couldn't breathe as the pad of his thumb traced over her skin, lightly brushing her lips; his eyes full of dark fire, fierce and all-consuming. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

Edging up onto the tips of her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down, groaning as his mouth met hers. He moaned in return, pulling her flush against him. It was overwhelming—the sudden warmth of his nakedness pressed against her; the slide of him… Maker, he was already hard, between her thighs; the strength in his arms holding her close. Her mind was a haze of desire as she kissed him back feverishly, her tongue finding the scar that had nearly been her undoing on more than one occasion. She was shaking, her muscles quivering at the sudden onslaught of emotion and sensation.

"Cullen." His name was a breathless whimper as he moved from her lips to her jaw and down the sensitive skin of her throat. She could smell the spindleweed in his hair as she held the back of his head, wanting him closer, surrendering herself to be devoured. Part of her stupid rational brain still refused to believe this was real, that she must be dreaming. "Are you really sure," her words were as slow and sluggish as her thoughts, "you want this? Want me?" Dammit, was she seriously sabotaging herself? Fuck! Why couldn't she have kept her mouth shut?

He pulled back after pressing one last open mouthed kiss over the place where her pulse was hammering wildly. She was clutching him tightly, barely able to stand, trembling all over as if she were freezing even though she was the exact opposite. Beneath the water, one of his hands slid up to cup her breast, lightly squeezing and massaging. "I want this. I want _you_."

His thumb flicked over her hardened nipple and she gasped. "I'm going to taste you, feel you, take you." With his other hand, he tugged her closer still, letting his erection glide against her core. "I want you so much that I could come now, just like this," he slid his length against her again with a low moan, "but I want to watch you come undone for me. I want to be inside you, to feel the moment when you clench tighter, when you can't keep your eyes open, when you fall apart."

He kissed her again with a passionate sweetness that made her ache, his tongue sweeping against hers. "Out of the water," she murmured between nips along his stubbled jaw line, "I want to see you. _All_ of you."

She pushed him backward, step by step, unwilling to let go of him; his hands were caressing her ass, keeping her pressed tightly to him as he gently sucked along the line of her shoulder. When the back of his legs hit the bench, he sat down as she straddled his thighs, running her palms over the muscled planes of his chest. She mouthed the scars she could reach, relishing the broken cadence of his breathing and the rhythm of his hands as he kneaded and squeezed.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered hoarsely.

"You're not so bad yourself." She traced the scar on his mouth with her lips. "You have no idea how hot this scar is. Even Leliana and Josephine think so." She licked it with the tip of her tongue from the top down to where it bisected his upper lip. "Mmmm… Dorian thinks so, too. And Bull."

His head fell back as he let out a soft whine. "So, you've discussed this, have you?"

"Perhaps." She rocked forward to scrape his earlobe with her teeth. "A bit."

Cullen let out a growl at the motion. "Out. Water. Now."

Reluctantly, she slid from his lap so he could stand, brushing her fingers against his length as she did so—completely by accident, of course—and he stepped up onto the bench and out of the pool before helping her to do the same. The cold air felt deliciously refreshing against the heat of her skin.

Cullen was staring at her, drinking her in with a look of feral hunger that made her flush even further. He reached for his cloak and spread it out on the cavern floor. "Come here."

Taking her hand, he lay down on top of it, bringing her carefully down with him so that they were side by side.

She kissed him, still with a surreal sense of disbelief that she _could_. "Maybe this cloak of yours can be useful after all."

"Every time I wear it after this, I won't be able to think of anything except how you look in this moment, stretched out and bare. All for me." He ran a finger up her abdomen to circle one of her breasts, inhaling sharply as she shuddered. "Are you cold?"

"There's no way I could be cold right now."

He leaned down to take her nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking until she was whimpering before moving over to the other one. She threaded her fingers into the damp curls of his hair, pressing him closer. "Cullen." His name was a plea for more; for him not to stop; for this to not be another fevered dream that she would soon wake from, aching and wanting.

She pulled his head up and claimed his mouth, twining her legs with his as she reached down to caress the heat of his erection with her fingers. "I've wanted you so much," she managed to get out between kisses hard enough to be nearly bruising. "For so long."

His reply was lost against her lips, a breathless moan as she stroked his shaft, her own hips already rocking forward, seeking him. Pushing him onto his back, they broke apart, panting, as she moved on top of him. Her eyes met his in the muted light as she hesitated; still wanting to be sure that this was what he wanted.

"Please," he whispered, begging, "I need… don't stop…"

Holding him motionless, she lowered herself down, her breath coming in harsh pants as he filled her.

"Maker, Liv, you feel… better than I ever… I'm not going to last."

Her eyes closed, her head tipping back, and then he was fully buried inside her, their lower bodies flush against each other. "I'm not either." She felt like she was already on the edge and they hadn't even begun to—

"Fuck…" she choked out as he grabbed her hips, anchoring her against him as he began to thrust. Pinpricks of light flickered behind her eyelids as she braced her hands against his chest. Her thoughts were completely incoherent, narrowed down to nothing but the pleasure wringing its way from her core into every inch of her body. She was begging, pleading, anything, but please, don't let it stop.

Cullen's mouth was on her breasts, one hand now between her legs as his thumb rubbed her desperately in time with the harsh snap of his hips. "Come for me. I want to feel you. I'm so close. Please."

She grabbed his hair, yanking him up for a hard kiss. Their pace was frantic, she was right there, balanced on the precipice, ready to fall…

"I can't… I'm going…" He thrust up hard, groaning against her mouth and her body dissolved into liquid heat. The intensity of it sent sparks through her limbs as she trembled, her back arching. His fingers were digging into her hip as his own aftershocks had him pushing against her, trying to be as deeply inside her as possible.

She collapsed on top of him, against the slick sweat of his chest, neither of them able to move or speak.

After a few minutes, Cullen flipped the edges of the cloak up around them, wrapping her snuggly against him. His head was resting against the top of hers, his fingers teasing the strands of hair that curled around her ears. Sleep was threatening to overtake her—it had to be early morning by now—but they might as well have a short rest before they went on. She couldn't help grinning. They had definitely earned it.

"What are you smiling about, my lady? Something nice I hope," Cullen whispered.

"Mmmm… something very nice indeed." She snuggled in closer.

"I love you." He pressed an affectionate kiss against her hair. "Thank you… for not giving up on me."

"Don't be silly." She yawned. "I love you, too, you daft man. I loved you when you were just my friend, too, although I'm not going to lie: having you like this… well, this is just gravy. Sexy, sexy gravy." She intertwined her fingers with his. "I'd tell you how many times I'd imagined something like this happening, but then you'd either laugh at me or be horrified, neither one is good."

Cullen gave a huff of laughter. "I can't imagine I would be horrified."

"Oh, you'd be surprised. I have a _very_ active imagination."

"Perhaps you'll have to tell me all about it sometime," his voice dropped lower, full of promise, "and I'll see what I can do."

Lifting her head, she kissed him, her heart overflowing with happiness. "Let's get some sleep. Then, we'll find a way out. Strangely enough, I'm not in any hurry to die down here."

He kissed her back, tender and sweet, with a gentle pull of her lower lip between his teeth. "Good to know."

* * *

 _One more chapter to go after this one. Big thanks to the amazing Josie Lange for her mad beta skills and thank you so much for reviewing, Shom!_


	6. Chapter 6

The sun was far too bright outside her window this morning. Had she forgotten to pull the curtains closed when she'd gone to bed last night? And she'd been having the most wonderful dream… She reached out to stuff her pillow over her face, but was surprised to find… Cullen?

She opened her eyes with a start, meeting his startled gaze as well. In a moment, everything clicked back into place. It hadn't been a dream. They'd made love, she'd fallen asleep in his arms… so why was it so bloody bright in here? She looked up to see a globe of yellow light, hovering just above them. Cullen was as confused as she was, his eyebrows raised in a puzzled manner.

"You know, my darlings, it's dreadfully impolite to have a private soirée without inviting me. Especially since you've evidently been keeping _this_ place hidden from me as well. I'm positively offended."

"Dorian?" She glanced down to make sure she and Cullen were both still covered in the cloak.

"You were expecting someone else, perhaps? I'm hurt. Who else was invited?"

Liv sat up, holding her corner of Cullen's cloak over her bare torso as Cullen scrambled to keep the other corner over his lower half. Dorian was relaxing in the pool, apparently naked, and he raised his wineskin in her direction and drank.

"How did you find us?"

"I didn't. Well, I suppose I was the one to _physically_ find you, but Cole told me where you were. Josephine was practically having kittens at your absence, but the way. I would recommend having an expensive box of Antivan chocolates on your person before you speak with her."

"We didn't mean to worry anyone. The stupid door shut behind us, and then—"

"Yes, yes. No veil fire, so you couldn't open it again." He wiggled his fingers in her direction. "I've taken care of it. The torch should stay lit, provided no one magically extinguishes it, so the same issue shouldn't recur in the future. Although, once word about this place gets out, I expect it will be much harder to have," the mage twitched his eyebrows suggestively, "a private rendezvous. Not that privacy matters that much to some, if you're into that kind of thing."

Cullen was looking flustered and embarrassed, so Liv cleared her throat meaningfully. "Unlike you, most of us _aren't_ into that sort of thing. So, if you don't mind…"

She waited.

The mage gave her a purposefully blank stare.

"Dorian, could you bugger off so we can get dressed before Bull or Sera or Maker-knows who else decides to talk to Cole and come down here?"

"Ah, of course. Just as well that I don't tarry anyway, my lovelies." He stood up and stepped out of the pool, stretching his arms up languorously, emphasizing his trim physique. "I do have a rather hefty sum of coin to collect from our resident dwarf." Humming to himself, he cast a spell that made his hands glow red, and he proceeded to rub down his skin with them. "Feel free to ogle, Commander," he said as Cullen coughed awkwardly. "Nothing to be embarrassed about."

"So, how soon before this is all over Skyhold?" Liv asked as Dorian slowly began re-dressing. "An hour?"

"My, my… you're delightfully optimistic. Considering how long we've all been waiting for the two of you to give in to the naughty, sordid thoughts we've all had about you—"

"Out!" Cullen and Liv bellowed the word together, both turning to look at one another.

"I'm going, I'm going. There's no need to shout." Dorian tightened his last belt and waved the yellow globe of light closer to him. "I'll leave the door open, shall I?"

"Please," Cullen said curtly.

Liv waited until glowing wisp had faded from view and the sound of Dorian's footsteps had receded before collapsing into giggles. Cullen was trying valiantly not to laugh, covering his smile with his hand.

"Busted." Liv flopped back against him. "We're never going to live this down, are we?"

"I can think of worse things," he whispered, drawing her face towards his for a languid kiss. "I hear from a reliable source that spontaneity can be a good thing," he kissed her again, "and that we should embrace it." His tongue edged along the seam of her lips, urging her mouth open.

"Well, I've heard," she whimpered as he rolled a nipple between the pads of his fingers, "that we have at least an hour before anyone else ventures down here to look for us again, so maybe we should," his other hand was sliding up her thigh as he nibbled her throat, and she nearly lost what she was about to say, "maybe we should… take advantage of this time alone."

"I couldn't agree more." He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear, "And, I intend to take _full_ advantage of every moment we have."

"Cullen, if you're trying to make me wetter, I don't think that's even humanly possible right now."

He laughed, husky and low. "My lady, you have _no_ idea."

* * *

 _And... we're done (for now anyway - possible sequel in the not-so-distant future). Huge thanks to my beta, Josie Lange, and to those reviewers I couldn't thank privately (thanks, Shom!). Thank you to cciortan for the best and most amazing Cullen plushie, who provided marvellous inspiration for this story, and thank you to everyone who has taken the time to leave a review, follow, or favourite this story. I appreciate you all so much!_


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